It's late at night on a friday
she cries silently in the shower
she washes away what people say
and the tears mix with the water
running dow her sad face
and falling on her tired breast...
In this same old place
there is no where to rest!
She writes empty thoughts
and makes up love stories.
She pretends to be distraught
holding on to old memories.
But she is like all the rest
living a borrowed life
searching for one that's best
not filled with so much strife.
reaching for what is not there
holding out for everything
waiting for someone to care
waiting to start living...
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